What I Need To Be
by Skater1ooo
Summary: What has Shinsou been up to since we saw him at the Sports Festival? What kind of training did he go through, and what changes did in invoke? Hopefully, this will fill in the blanks. Rated T for coarse language and possible adult themes in later chapters.
1. An Offer You Can't Refuse

**Well, time to venture into this lengthy endeavor. First off, obviously, spoiler warning for BNHA. Don't read this if you aren't up to date. Secondly, I do not own BNHA; it is the intellectual property of Kohei Horikoshi, and I am simply a fan. This is only my second fanfiction, so it'll likely fall apart at some point. Until then, enjoy.**

* * *

It had been roughly two weeks since the Sports Festival, and Shinsou felt, for all intents and purposes, crappy.

The luster of being socially accepted faded upon the realization that once again his dreams were out of reach. His transfer to the hero department didn't look likely, and considering all the intensive training that the hero students would be receiving, it was unlikely he would be able to keep up in time for next year's Sports Festival.

But, despite all of that, he had to try.

Since his defeat, he'd been going to the gym, weight lifting, jogging, and overall just doing anything he could to try to get at least a little bit closer to the goal he had set for himself.

But, it didn't feel like enough. Even with the prospect of better strength and cardio, Shinsou couldn't shake the feeling like it still wouldn't matter. That the hero students would simply be too big of an obstacle to overcome. That he'd never be able to catch up, and the hero path would become completely impossible.

So, walking out of his last class of the day, he just didn't feel great.

Since he liked to walk a little slow, he was alone when he went to retrieve his bike.

"Hey, kid."

Shinsou looked up to see the bedraggled figure of Professor Aizawa, the teacher for class 1-A, waiting for him next to his bike.

Aizawa stared at him for a moment.

"Follow me."

Aizawa turned around and started walking at a brisk pace. Shinsou snapped out of his stunned stupor, quickly catching up to the pro-hero who hadn't even paused to see if he was following.

" _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. THE Eraserhead wants to talk to me!"_

They walked across the school to a medium sized campus gym, one which had an assortment of weight lifting equipment, and punching bags. The entire floor was also one big training mat.

Aizawa stopped in the middle of the large gym space, and Shinsou ground to a halt behind him.

" _Is this it? Is it happening? Am I…?"_

"Am I being transferred to the hero course?"

"No."

Why did he even get his hopes up? Of course he wouldn't get transferred. He clenched his fists and fought to keep a disappointed look off of his face.

"Damn… guess there's no consolation prize for sixteenth place."

The dry depreciating humour prompted an unexpected response from the normally harsh underground hero.

"Don't sell yourself short, kid; you did just fine for a transfer."

"…What?"

"Normally, any students outside of the hero course who make it into the third round are heavily considered for transfer, granted they desire it. This was no different; the staff talked about it for a long while, but due to the threat of continued villain attacks on the current hero students, it was decided that it would be best not to transfer any students in or out at the current time."

Shinsou wasn't sure how to take that. Should he be happy that he actually did do well enough for a transfer, or upset that he was denied due to poor luck?

Sarcastic annoyance as a defense mechanism also seemed like a good solution.

"So, I didn't make the cut. Can I leave then? I have homework to do."

A flash of a smirk rippled across Aizawa's face before it turned back to indifference.

"I also brought you here because I wanted to flesh out exactly what you did wrong, because despite what I just said, your performance was far from perfect.

"You could've made it further if you'd been a bit more careful. Maybe not let others find out how your quirk worked. Could've maybe even made it to the finals. Your physical ability is laughable, and despite some admittedly clever trash talk, you haven't worked out very many ways to activate your quirk, which you rely on far too much. As it stands now, it's no wonder you lost."

" _Did he literally just bring me here incase I started crying or something?"_

"If you're gonna point out all of my flaws, at least touch on my general sarcasm and attitude."

Shinsou turned back towards the door with a scowl. What a waste of time.

"Come back here now."

The sternness in Aizawa's voice compelled Shinsou to turn back, if for nothing else than to frown defiantly.

"I know it's not the easiest thing to hear, kid, but you need to hear it."

Shinsou defiant frown softened into something a little sadder and more understanding. Oh, so that's what it was about. Letting him down gently; letting him know where he went wrong. Soften the blow a little. Let him know just how stupid it was for him to think he could do it, in the nicest of ways.

"I get it… the hero track isn't for me. Thanks for letting me know."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"That's what it sounds like."

"Would you like to be better? Do you want to be a hero?"

Shinsou didn't even need to think.

"Yes."

"Then I have an offer."

Shinsou looked at Aizawa with a raised eyebrow.

"The hero students will be heading off to their internships soon. I don't really have anything to do over that time, so, you could come train with me."

Shinsou's heart stopped. Eraserhead was offering to train him; _the_ Eraserhead. The ultimate underground hero. The inspiration he'd practically idolized since he'd developed his quirk.

"This isn't going to be your average hero training. I put my students through a strict curriculum provided and overseen by the school, but, given you are not an actual student of mine, I have free reign to train you how I wish, and trust me, it'll be much worse than you think.

"This isn't going to just be flair and punching, where you swoop in, save the day, and thousands of people praise you for doing your job. The work you'll be going into will be grueling, thankless, and bloody. You'll see things that will irrevocably change you, and you'll go home every day exhausted, mentally and physically.

"I'm giving you a while to think about it; I'll be in this gym the Monday of the internships. If you think you can handle it, show up. Eight A.M., don't be late."

Without another word, Aizawa calmly walked out the door, as if he hadn't just rocked Shinsou to his core.

His mouth wide open, Shinsou began to walk back to his bike.

He almost couldn't comprehend everything that had just happened.

Being trained by Eraserhead. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Was this what he'd been missing? Could this be his big break; the thing he needed to make himself into a hero?

Only one way to find out.

* * *

 _(8:00 A.M., Monday of the internships.)_

Aizawa walked up to the gym, and was somehow not surprised to see a mop of purple hair waiting for him by the door.

* * *

 **Consider this somewhat of a love letter to Shinsou's entire character. This story is semi-charted, and will likely end when I catch up to the manga. I don't really have a clue about timelines, but I have looked a few up just to get a general idea of what training goes on at what time. Who knows though, I might extend it a bit for when he actually gets into the hero course. What will this story entail? Who knows? I do but I'm not telling. Have a nice day.**


	2. Can You Take It? Part 1

**Still own nothing. Chapter updates, once again, likely to be sporadic and completely unpredictable. I write when I feel like writing, and I finish when I finish. I often sit with writing documents open for fucking months, just making small additions every now and then. Just right now, I have a document that has an editing time of over 140,000 minutes, which roughly equates to 3 months of it just sitting open, unfinished as I stare at every once in a while. Also, I split this chapter into two chapters, which is why we're having a double upload right now.**

* * *

Shinsou looked up as Aizawa walked up to the front of the gym wearing his standard hero gear. Shinsou himself was dressed in a bland white t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants, along with a pair of ratty black tennis shoes.

"I have a question."

Aizawa walked past Shinsou to open the door, and responded in his normal tired tone.

"Go ahead."

"How many people will I save?"

Aizawa paused in the doorway, and turned back to Shinsou, face blank with a hint of mild irritation.

"Does it matter?"

Shinsou looked offended.

"Of course it matters. Why wouldn't saving people matter?"

Aizawa's eyes squinted before he responded coolly, "I'm not talking about saving people, I'm talking about the amount. Does it matter if you save a lot of people? Is only saving a few not good enough?"

Shinsou looked stunned.

Aizawa looked directly into Shinsou's eyes. "Lesson number one; any amount of effort spent saving any amount of people, is worth it. The quantity does not matter; a hero shouldn't care."

With that, Aizawa turned and walked through the door. Shinsou quickly followed.

"Well, then, will I save people?"

Without even turning his head. "…Yes."

Shinsou had to ask.

"Why're you still wearing your hero gear?"

"I was doing hero work before this."

Shinsou blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"When I can."

" _Well, that explains the perpetual bags under his eyes."_

Once again, they stopped in the center of the gym. Aizawa turned around, and pulled a notepad and stopwatch out of his capture scarf.

"I'm going to make one thing clear before we start. If I believe at any point that your work is unsatisfactory, this training will be over. You will lose your chance at becoming a hero. No second chances, no do-overs."

Shinsou gulped, but stayed looking in Aizawa's eyes.

"Also, if there is anything I should know, say it now. If your parents need you home at a certain time, if you have any medical issues, anything. Once we start, I don't want to hear a word out of you."

Shinsou's eyes squinted a bit before he responded, scratching the back of his neck. "There shouldn't shouldn't be a problem."

"Alright. I'm going to be collecting some data on your performance. We'll start with a quick jog as a warmup. Run laps around the gym until I tell you to stop."

Great, running. There was one thing that Shinsou discovered after he'd started his daily jogging routine, and it was that running sucked.

Aizawa started the stop watch as Shinsou began at a slow pace.

" _Okay, steady breaths; in through the mouth, out through the nose. You can do this."_

Though Shinsou had been riding his bike for years, he'd never really had amazing cardio.

But, he kept going. It was just a warmup, couldn't be too hard.

"Speed it up."

Aizawa's command was short and concise, leaving no room for argument.

Shinsou's face twisted into mild irritation before he picked his pace up to a moderate jog.

After the third lap, Shinsou's lungs began to burn. Yep, running still sucked.

"Faster."

" _Isn't this supposed to be a jog?"_

Shinsou picked his pace up to a light sprint.

This was a decent sized gym. Had this always been a decent sized gym? The length just seemed to stretch on painfully.

Shinsou glanced at Aizawa. He was just staring at him intently with his trademark blank frown.

After the fifth lap, his legs started getting tired.

How long was this warmup going to take?

After the seventh lap, sweat was sheening across the entirety of his face. He felt like he was being stabbed in side, and was breathing heavily.

He wanted to stop.

" _Has this gym always been this big?! It didn't seem this big! Why is the gym this big?!"_

As Shinsou continued, every step became more and more difficult. But, Aizawa hadn't told him to stop yet.

Oh, how badly Shinsou wanted to stop.

Shinsou pushed himself forward. Lap eight, lap nine.

He was panickily gasping for air that didn't seem to reach him. His lungs burnt, his feet hurt, and his calves. Oh, his poor calves. They didn't deserve this.

He was on the verge of collapsing before he heard the sound of glorious salvation.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Shinsou's body weight toppled him down to his knees, where he proceeded to take desperate gulps of much needed oxygen. Precious, taken for granted, oxygen.

Aizawa's feet appearing in his vision. Shinsou looked up, seeing Aizawa's typical disinterested face with a hand reaching toward him.

In his hand he held a water bottle.

Shinsou snatched it before greedily chugging it.

Aizawa proceeded to write something on his clipboard before speaking.

"Let's continue."

Shinsou sputtered with exasperation; couldn't he have a second to rest?

"I can see that look on your face. You'll rest when you're done."

Shinsou coughed before he forced himself up to his aching feet.

"Next, we'll be doing pushups."

How long was this going to go on for?

* * *

Four hours.

It hadn't gotten easier after the jogging. It moved onto push-ups, which Shinsou hardly ever did. Once again, Shinsou felt like his arms were about to give way, but right before he dropped, Aizawa told him to stop.

The cycle continued afterwards. Squats, side-to-side jumps, jumping jacks, crunches. Every muscle group was worked out. Every time, Aizawa told him to go until he was told to stop. Every time, right before he dropped from sheer overexertion, Aizawa allowed him to stop.

Much to Shinsou's dismay, the workout reset. After he was done with his last agonizing workout, he was told to run again. After that, more push-ups. Every workout was repeated. Every time, he felt less and less able to get up.

He took a quick break to eat a few provided granola bars and chug some of his second water bottle, but the workouts resumed right after.

In the end, Shinsou's entire body felt like a metaphorical weight. Each limb was limp and useless. Hair matted to his head from sweat, his t-shirt hugging his chest, a light tap of dripping liquid running down his strands.

His disposition was not improved by Aizawa's unimpressed observations.

"Your performance is sub-par. I thought you'd need work, but this is ridiculous. Have you _ever_ worked out before?"

" _Yes! I've been going to the gym, I've been jogging, I've been_ trying _!"_

But Shinsou couldn't voice his thoughts. He was too exhausted. Too disillusioned. Too dejected. He thought it would be hard, but this was… devastating.

If he couldn't do a simple exercise, how hopeless was he?

Aizawa stared at his red face for a moment before he went back to his clipboard.

"I expect improvement by the end of the week."

With that, he left Shinsou to drag himself to his feet and stumble across the school to his bike.

On his way home, he fell off his bike four times before he adjusting to his new jellified state. Not to mention how all of that water he'd drank had gone _right_ through him.

Getting to his apartment building, he parked his bike in the bike rack outside, and with a grimace over his newly acquired scrapes, walked up the stairs on wobbly legs, down the hall, and entered his apartment.

It was small, but it had the essentials. A bath, a kitchen, and a living room which doubled as a bedroom.

After getting done with usual chores, which were made extra hard by just how exhausted he was, making some food, and showering to get rid of the body odor that was beginning to make its appearance, he was finally able to rest.

Later that night, Shinsou laid down with his new bruises and tired body, and, in a rare turn of events, went to sleep almost instantly, dreading the next day.

" _It'll get easier, Shinsou. You'll adjust. You can do this; you can make it. It doesn't matter what anyone else says; you can prove them wrong. Tomorrow will be better."_

* * *

 _(Tuesday)_

Tomorrow was not better.

Shinsou awoke with his muscles screaming at him. Even the small movements to get out of bed sent ripples of torturous tingles throughout his body.

He realized he'd overslept and had no time to make himself breakfast, nor take a desperately needed shower to soothe his aching body.

When he got to the gym, Aizawa chastised him for being late. Ten minutes late to be exact.

"If you aren't going to take this seriously, then don't bother showing up at all," Aizawa said with squinted eyes.

"I am taking this seriously! I just overslept, it won't happen again!" Shinsou pleaded with his mentor.

Aizawa stared at him(he'd been doing an awful lot of that, and Shinsou was beginning to believe it was some kind of intimidation tactic meant to make him nervous, and it worked), before sternly telling him not to repeat the performance.

"Start running."

What followed was to come close to being Shinsou's most pathetic day of his life.

During running, he could barely reach half of what he'd done the day before. The trend followed him throughout the other exercises as well. Whether Aizawa decided to cut him some slack or simply pitied him, Shinsou didn't know; either way he didn't mention Shinsou's complete lack of energy.

He had the good graces to be given some granola bars after his stomach started throwing a tantrum, and a water bottle or two after the workouts, but other than that, Aizawa was unrelenting in his repeated punishment of Shinsou's body.

Rather than falling to his hands and knees like yesterday, Shinsou went the extra mile of falling flat onto his face at the end of another four-hour pain session. The smack of the padding against his face caused a light sting; the cherry on top of a myriad of other miseries.

Shinsou's pleading gasps were interrupted by Aizawa's smooth drawl.

"Tomorrow, don't be late, and for the sake of decency, eat breakfast before you come here," Aizawa turned and started walking, "I don't want to see you shoveling down granola bars like that ever again."

The dry humour was lost on Shinsou, who had been focusing on trying to get his breathing level. He continued to lay flat for another minute before getting up and limping his way to where he'd left his bike, not noticing a tall bedraggled figure watching him right up until he painfully pedaled away.

When Shinsou finally laid down to sleep, he stopped himself. If he overslept again, Aizawa would surely stop the training. But… the mattress felt so good.

Closing his eyes, Shinsou breathed a fleeting sigh of relief.

* * *

 _(Wednesday)_

Running, sprinting, Shinsou ignored the dull throbbing of his legs as he made his way into the gym where Aizawa was waiting.

" _Please don't be late, please don't be late, please don't be late."_

Shinsou stopped to catch his breath right as he made it into the gym.

He looked up to see Aizawa's furious quirk addled gaze.

"I told you _not_ to be late!"

Shinsou looked at a clock on the wall.

Nine.

Nine fucking o'clock.

A full goddamn hour late.

"I-It won't happen again, Sensei," said Shinsou as he trembled.

Aizawa's fury didn't diminish as he spoke. "You're right, it won't, because this training is over."

Shinsou's stomach dropped.

He screamed. "Please, Sensei! I'll show up an hour early for the rest of the week, _and_ stay an hour later!"

"So you want me to cut into _my_ time, because _you_ can't stick to a simple schedule?

"It's no wonder you lost at the Sports Festival. Nobody as pathetic as you could ever cut it in my class."

Shinsou stared in abject horror as Aizawa spoke.

"Shinsou Hitoshi… you will never be a hero."

Shinsou's eyes widened as he yelled in emotional agony. "NOOOOOOO!"

Shinsou jolted up in his bed with a gasp, panickedly looking around, before he lunged for his phone to check the time.

4:37 A.M.

" _Just a nightmare? …just a nightmare."_

A horrible horrible nightmare, but ultimately, just a nightmare. A figment of Shinsou's anxiety riddled brain.

With his mind full of panic, and a heart pumping adrenaline, Shinsou realized he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight.

So, he sat there until his adrenaline died down and his body's pain began to catch up with him.

When his charging phone told him that it was about time for him to get up and get ready, he eerily blinked away whatever remnants of tears and sleepiness he had.

The soreness was worse than yesterday. He got up to make himself breakfast with whatever he could find in the kitchen. He followed it up with a long shower, and left the house.

Shinsou checked his phone. 7:45. Early was decidedly better than late in Shinsou's mind. So, he sat against the wall and looked at his phone

Fifteen minutes later, Aizawa walked up to the gym.

"Early this time." His tone sounded amused.

Shinsou smiled slightly for the first time this week.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to be late again, so I just got up earlier than I normally do."

Aizawa walked past Shinsou's sitting place to open the door and walk in. "Try not to anymore. I appreciate the dedication, but a hero should be a model of efficiency. Never a moment too late or too early. In our line of work, any wasted time could mean a wasted life."

Shinsou painstakingly got up to follow Aizawa into the building. It might not be the most efficient way to do things, but right now.

The day followed the standard precedent, with Shinsou ultimately ending up with exploding lungs and spasming limbs.

"Don't forget, I expect improvement by the end of the week."

Is it even possible to improve within a week? Maybe. With an eternally sore body and no hope of a decent night's rest? Unlikely.

Later that night, Shinsou set an alarm on his phone. Something he hadn't done for years. He was used to just waking up when he needed to. His internal clock had always been on-point. But, desperate times called for desperate measures.

The alarm didn't stop him from waking up several times during the night.

* * *

 _(Thursday)_

Aizawa seemed angry about something today, if the way he barked orders more aggressively indicated anything.

So, when Shinsou was done coughing what remained of his lungs out, he decided to carefully prod as to what had gotten the underground hero so on-edge.

"Aizawa, Sensei… are you upset with me or something?"

Aizawa blinked at him.

"No. What made you think that?"

Shinsou scratched the back of his head, an action which in itself caused his muscles and joints to flare in pain and make him wince.

"Well, you seem agitated today."

Aizawa just stared at him.

"You shouldn't concern yourself with my problems, but, if you must know, it has reached my ear that a few problem children have somehow managed to cause more problems than even _I_ anticipated."

Shinsou rubbed his neck nervously. "So… nothing to do with me."

"You, so far, have not qualified as a problem child. So, no, nothing to do with you."

That made Shinsou at least a little bit happy. About as happy as a fifteen-year-old boy with a perpetually aching body and a quickly diminishing time window with which to improve could possibly be.

Riding home, he figured at least he wasn't on Aizawa's bad side yet.

As he was about two blocks from his house, after having crashed his bike into two different trees after he started dozing off while _riding,_ his goddamn front bike wheel broke. After Shinsou got up from being flung ass over elbows into the pavement, he inspected the old bike to see that the wheel, after having received punishment aplenty this week, had snapped in half due to a couple cracks that had formed.

"Well, isn't that just fucking great," Shinsou muttered angrily, rubbing his face into his hands.

After limping home with scraped knees and elbows, he chained his bike to the bike rack, where it would likely be staying for a while until Shinsou somehow managed to get a replacement wheel.


	3. Can You Take It? Part 2

_(Sunday)_

Last day of the week. Last day to show improvement.

Friday and Saturday were uneventful, if a little disheartening. No improvement to speak of. Not to mention that with the broken bike, Shinsou had to wake up even earlier in order to _jog_ all the way to the school, as well as back home.

The last day of the week, and Shinso didn't believe he could improve.

Every day, he just got worse and worse, and even the intensifying pain turned into a dull backdrop compared to the connotations of what this meant.

Aizawa would stop training him. A nightmare becoming reality. A cracked dream fully broken.

But Shinsou, like always, whether he believed he could do it or not, tried.

So, during the final jog of the day, Shinsou tried.

"Alright, that's enough."

But Shinsou kept running.

Aizawa looked up from where he'd been writing in his clipboard, and frowned.

"I said you could stop."

He didn't.

Even though his legs, and chest, and everything, burned. Even though he wanted to throw up. Even though it hurt to keep trying and being met with the same failure. He kept jogging.

…for about sixty seconds.

At which point he ended up flat on his face, gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him.

He hadn't done better. He hadn't improved. Even his last-ditch effort to save face and impress had been met with a mouthful of mat.

This picture seemed to be a perfect metaphor for Shinsou's life up to this point. Effort met with his face in the metaphorical dirt.

But, deep down, Shinsou knew from the first day that this would be how he would end up; a pathetic sack of dead weight, miserably fallen onto the floor trying to achieve the same result that seemed to come to others so easily.

And so, he cried as Aizawa's light footsteps slowly padded over to him.

"I can't do it. I can't," said Shinsou, sadly, muffled by the floor beneath his face.

"I tried, but I just can't…"

Then, after several moments passed of Shinsou's ragged breathing filling the air, a hand went under his armpit.

Aizawa, over the entire week, had never once helped Shinsou up. And yet, in that moment, the only effort Shinsou had to make was to stabilize himself as he was ushered over to a wall.

" _Oh great, pity."_

Aizawa propped him against the wall, and wordlessly handed him another water bottle. Shinsou drank sullenly, sure that Aizawa would any moment let him know how he had let him down. How he had once again failed.

"Shinsou Hitoshi… I have to say I'm impressed," Aizawa said, finishing it with an unsettling toothy grin.

Shinsou felt a sudden surge of adrenaline fill his tired and numb body. He looked up, confused, into the bloodshot eyes of the Pro-Hero.

"Impressed? I did terribly. I didn't improve at all. I couldn't improve. I failed!" Shinsou said, thoroughly flabbergasted.

"Fail? No. I wasn't expecting you to improve in such a short amount of time. That would be illogical."

Aizawa sat against the wall next to Shinsou.

"Call it curiosity, but I wanted to see if you would crack when faced with unfavourable conditions. I fully expected you to. I had an entire chastising speech and everything. But, you didn't. You stuck it through, even when you believed you would fail."

Aizawa pointedly looked at Shinsou. "I don't train people who are simply going to quit when things get tough."

Shinsou had finally caught his breath, and was wholly focused on what he'd just heard. He almost couldn't believe his ears.

"So… you're still going to train me?"

"Oh, I was never planning to quit training you. If you had given up, I'd have simply drilled into your head how you can't give up just because things don't look good."

Shinsou looked, wide eyed at this man who had put his mind and body through proverbial hell, all for a test.

Maybe on a better day Shinsou would have seen the point; the purpose of such an argument. The clearly defined reasoning.

After the week that Shinsou had though, he was just plain angry. Anger overrided any semblance of a, "respect for authority" filter he may have had.

"Are you kidding me?!"

Aizawa's blinked at the outburst in mild surprise.

"Do you have any idea about the week that I've had? I broke my fucking bike because I kept falling off it over how tired I was! That was three days ago, and I've had to _run_ here every day since. Not to mention running back, after I've been put through the stupid training course of workouts that make _no sense_ whatsoever!

"I could barely sleep because when I _did,_ I just kept waking up! I've got a blister on the bottom of my foot from running too much," Shinsou said, pointing at his extended leg, "not mentioning the one that I accidentally _popped,_ and has been hurting like a BITCH ever since! And to top all of that off, I'm pretty sure I'm getting a rash on the inside of my thigh! All for a stupid initiation into the actual training, that I didn't even know about?!"

Shinsou fell against the wall again after exerting himself into gesticulating through his verbal outburst.

After taking a few gasps of air to recover, Shinsou went pale.

He had just yelled at the only person willing to train him.

Also, pushing himself to run further hadn't done him any favours.

So, Shinsou leaned to the side and heaved, throwing up his stomach contents.

After a few seconds of discharge, Shinsou looked down at the puddle he had made with damp eyes. Bits of granola and half digested egg in the watery sick, strings of saliva and mucus still connecting to his mouth before a quick spit severed it.

Thank God for the little victories; he hadn't puked on the side that Aizawa was on.

Aizawa was looking intently at the boy he had offered to train. He pulled a rag out of his seemingly endless array of pockets, and dampened it with a spare water bottle before handing it to Shinsou, who took it after a moment's hesitation.

Wiping his face and mouth with it, Shinsou scooted over to avoid the spreading pile of puke, Aizawa following suite to allow Shinsou to move.

"Sorry… I'll clean that up."

After a minute of tense silence filled with nothing but Shinsou's labored breathing and sniffs, Aizawa spoke.

"There was a point to this beyond just testing you, or seeing whether you would quit."

Aizawa looked up at the ceiling, face partially obscured by his scarf bindings.

"As I'm sure you're aware. The Hero-Killer was captured a few days ago."

Yes, Shinsou had been aware of that. It was everywhere. All over the news. Stain apprehended by the Number Two Hero.

Where was he going with this?

"You might not know, but someone recorded the event, and right now, hundreds upon thousands of people are watching it.

"His philosophy of false heroes, and purification… it's a load of bull, but like any twisted belief, it'll gain followers, and it'll spread, and fester, and ingrain so deep into the recesses of the world that the heroes of now will never be able to fully stop it."

Shinsou's breathing had finally calmed down, and he stared at Aizawa, holding onto every word, thoroughly transfixed.

"I think there comes a time in every hero's career where they begin to sense a great darkness approaching. A darkness they know they can't stop. In those times, the best they can possibly hope for is that they've done what they can to ensure that when that darkness comes, others will rise up in their stead."

Aizawa stood up.

"I don't know what this darkness will entail. But I do know, when it comes, the world may need new heroes. A new All Might… a new Eraserhead."

Aizawa looked at Shinsou, who had gone still. Aizawa helped him up.

"Your job will come to expect much of you. So, there will be days like this. Where you simply wonder whether you've done enough. Whether you're good enough to fit the role you've been given.

"I don't know that answer for you, but for me, I just think about what would happen if I wasn't there. If I let someone else take my place. It boils down to this; I'm the only one I trust to do my job."

Shinsou felt numb, looking down at the ground.

"Shinsou."

Shinsou looked up into Aizawa's eyes.

"You could've quit at any point and you know it. Why didn't you?"

Shinsou was silent for a few moments.

"…I want to be a hero."

"Why? There are plenty of professions out there, much less dangerous. Much easier paths for you to take."

"I don't want easy… nothing has ever been easy. Being a hero is all I have left, it's the only thing I've held onto… it's what I need to be. Nothing else matters."

Aizawa's smirk returned. He ushered Shinsou out of the gym, and talked as they walked.

"There are two types of heroes. Those who become heroes because it suits them, and those that become heroes because it suits their desires. Money, fame, whatever. You came here, and one of the first things you asked was whether you'd save people.

"You've got that drive. Some just want to be a hero. You? You said it yourself. You _need_ to be one. It would be illogical for me to let the world miss out on such a promising student."

After Shinsou make a quick glance back towards where they had been sitting, Aizawa followed up.

"Don't worry about the puke. We've got custodians for that.

"Also, I've been shadowing you home for the past week."

Shinsou's eyes widened at that.

"Wait. So, you saw…?"

"Saw you crash into every tree possible? Yeah; and about the bike."

Aizawa reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Consider this an investment into your continued training."

Aizawa pulled out some money and handed it to Shinsou.

Shinsou stared wide-eyed at the yen in his hands.

"Sensei, I can't accept this," he sputtered.

"Trust me, I make plenty of money. Just buy yourself a new bike. I was getting annoyed at seeing how slow that old one was."

Aizawa walked out of the gym with Shinsou.

"I suggest the first place you go after you leave here is the bike shop."

Aizawa turned and began walking away.

"We'll resume our training when you've rested up a bit. Show up to school tomorrow and go visit Recovery Girl. I'd imagine you're pretty sick of being sore, and of your… rash."

Shinsou smirked a bit.

"Eh, I've gotten use to it," he said as he shrugged, wincing and hissing as he did.

Aizawa snorted, and that was the last noise out of him before he left audible range.

Shinsou walked home, with a weird satisfied smile on his face.

* * *

 **Holy. Fucking. Shit.**

 **So, I kind of sat down and powered this out because I felt the need to, and I'm honestly really proud of it. Then again, I wrote it while in a groggy insomnia induced haze, which may have warped my perceptions of it. Also, new record, the longest thing I have ever written in a single word document. This is two chapters, but in actuality I've just done that because I really don't want a chapter to be super long unless I'm positive I can have the other chapters be of similar length. So, split into two chapters it is.**


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